Running
by A Random Bowser
Summary: What do you do when you don't know how to win and you can't afford to lose? Story for Round Two of the QLFC


Title:** Running**

Author: **A Random Bowser**

Beta: **purple-psychopath**

Word Count: 1,212

For: The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Wigtown Wanderers

Prompts: "But once you knew a girl and you named her Lover,

And danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer.

But autumn came, she disappeared,

You can't remember where she said she was going to."

- Perfect Sonnet, Bright Eyes

_Optional prompts:_

_How to win_

_Shoes_

_"Please tell me you're not serious. Please."_

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

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_August 29, 1995_

Pansy sighed in bewilderment as she stared at the neat and perfectly stacked shelves of shoes that lined her second closet. There were so many beautiful and elegant options, her feet were always decked out in a work of art, at least they were when she wasn't at school and forced to wear the drab black flats that are a requirement of the uniform. However, as she entered the closet she bypassed the majority of them. Where she was going, she had as much use for the bejeweled stilettos in daring colors, as she had for the delicate day slippers that were as thin as a whisper; no, necessity forced her to select on those shoes that were practical and could serve a purpose. Those shoes were few and far between; which was a good thing, considering that she had only a limited amount of room for clothes.

"Parkinson! I just heard that…Good God! The rumors were true weren't they! You're leaving!" A slender brunette exclaimed as she burst into Pansys' room and looked around at the packed and unpacked luggage. Pansy scowled as she cradled the plain black stilettos she had picked up off the shelf only moments before. "Please tell me you're not serious. Please." The brunette all but begged.

"Been taking lessons in etiquette from the Weasley's, Greengrass?" Pansy snapped in response as she exited the shoe closet, casting slightly teary eyes on her best friend. "Never mind," she said with a slight wave of her hand. Carrying the shoes with her, she settled on the edge of her gold gilded four poster bed with the sigh, patting the area beside her. "Father has confirmed that Potter wasn't lying. _HE_ is back, and well...I don't know how to win." A stray tear etched a wet path down her fair cheek as Pansy indulged in a moment of weakness. She leaned over to rest on the shoulder of the taller girl, who in turn, wrapped her in a one armed embrace. "My family isn't like yours, Daph; there is no possibility that my parents will allow me to pass myself off as neutral. They know me better; have raised me in my beliefs to the point where there is no hope in lying. The fact that I do not wish to bare the mark matters little to them; in fact my father considers it the family duty to serve, just as his father before him served. It's lose, lose Daph."

"You know Draco has already been marked. I overheard father discussing his initiation with mother in the study a fortnight ago. We are to be betrothed as soon as I receive my mark." Pansy said stiffly, straightening and looking at the shoes clutched in her hands. "At one point, I think I would have taken the mark just to be with him; I love Draco so, but now," Pansy stopped and let out a long breath of air, her shoulders slumping as if she carried a heavy weight, "Now I am simply frightened, and Draco isn't here."

Daphne hugged her friend firmly before rising from the bed and turning to face her. "I am so sorry Pansy, love. Tell me, have you spoken with Malfoy yet?"

Pansy sighed and laid the shoes gently upon her pale green and silver duvet. She then allowed her wand to slip from its holster and into her fingers. "I have, Greengrass, not that it is any of your business; however I guess it is safe to say that he will remember about as much of that conversation as you will." Pansy smiled sadly as confusion graced her friends' dark blue eyes. _"Obliviate,"_ Pansy murmured softly, jabbing her wand at her friend; she focused on replacing any memories of their recent conversation with ones that assured her dear friend that the rumors were but lies, and how they would soon be meeting on the train to start planning for the future wedding of Draco and herself. "As much as I love you Greengrass, you really must stop this fretting. You know that there is little chance that my parents would allow me to miss school for any reason whatsoever; I really must pack. I am surprised that you are here instead of packing yourself, we leave in two days mind you."

"You say that simply because it takes you longer pack, Parkinson. Really, house elves love to help and I know you have one at your disposal. I doubt I will ever understand why it is that you refuse to take advantage of its services." Daphne said with a slight huff.

"We have been over this every year since we were firsties, Greengrass. House elves have no sense of fashion, and I must be fashionable, even if I am forced to hide it behind those idiotic robes the school calls a uniform." Pansy hugged her friend tightly once more before ushering her towards the doorway. "Now go and let me finish up."

Pansy gently closed the door behind her friend and settled back on the edge of her bed, the plain black shoes in her hands once more. The last time she had worn this particular pair was just before Yule two years ago. These were her practice shoes, and as Malfoy's date, her dancing was expected to be impeccable, and so the two of them had practiced.

Yet it seemed so long ago. It was as if the memories of stolen dances in the Hogwarts kitchens blended in with the very first dances she had shared with the young scion as children, back when they were both first learning the intricacies of dance.

Pansy closed her eyes and curled into the fetal position, pulling the black shoes in close to her belly as tears streaked down her face. The memories of stolen summer nights, spent dancing with _her_ Draco invaded her mind and threatened her resolve. Pansy laid there and cried, until eventually the memories faded into dreams as sleep calmed her distraught mind, allowing her one last dance with the only man she had ever called lover.

_September 1, 1995_

"Greengrass! Hold up!" Draco called out, reaching one hand forward in an attempt to slow the slender girl who was currently walking rather quickly towards the dungeons. "Where is Parkinson? Why wasn't she at the welcoming feast?" He demanded of her, his long fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arm.

"How should I know? Last time I spoke with her was two days ago. We had planned to meet up on the train, but I am not surprised that she chose to spend the ride with you, rather than with my sister and me." Daphne replied, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes before they were quickly buried beneath her Slytherin mask.

"What do you mean? She didn't ride in my compartment on the train. I had assumed that she was with you; but if this isn't the case, where is she?" Dracos' eyes were wide and his grip on Daphnes' arm grew tighter, almost painfully so. "I have to find her. Sev…Professor Snape, we need to let him know. He can find her, if anyone can. I can't lose her Daph. I need her, terribly so."

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**AN:** Friday Morning, I made a small change in the date at the top as I noticed that the date was wrong when I was rereading the story after posting it.


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